


Who Says We're Dating?

by sneakronicity



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, New Avengers: Breakout prose novel, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 21:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakronicity/pseuds/sneakronicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just supposed to be physical, but how long could they lie to themselves that this 'thing' between them wasn't any more than that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Says We're Dating?

**Author's Note:**

> After reading the New Avengers: Breakout prose novel by Alisa Kwitney I was left wanting more in that verse, and as these comics adaptations aren't likely to get sequels, I wrote my own. If you haven't read the novel yet go buy one right now. It is awesome.

He didn’t date people he worked with.  
  
It was the old adage Clint Barton had peddled since joining S.H.I.E.L.D.  Hell, he’d been living by it since getting tangled up with that contortionist back in his circus days; boy had she taught him some moves, but things had gotten messy when he’d caught her bending over backwards for the lion tamer.  Literally.  
  
He didn’t date people he worked with, he told everyone that, he had told _her_ that when she had come over for knife throwing lessons and he’d felt the need to clarify after his stupid _“It’s a date”_ comment at the baby shower.  “I don’t date my coworkers,” he had said when things had gotten a little heavy and all pretenses of training had been dropped.  
  
And how had she responded?  “Who says we’re dating?” Natasha had replied before proceeding to wrap her legs around him and ride him so hard he barely remembered his own name let alone his personal work motto.  
  
It hadn’t been the first time.  No, they had gotten down and dirty (twice, and literally) on the jungle floor while traipsing around the Savage Land trying not to die.  It hadn’t been the last time, either, as over the past few months it had become a rather common occurrence for her to show up at his apartment and end up in his bed.  
  
It had become like a running joke between them.  “I don’t date my coworkers,” he would say, and every time she would reply with “Who says we’re dating,” before they got up to activities that didn’t necessarily constitute ‘dating’, but that definitely meant that they were more than just coworkers.  Eventually, though, the joke started to lose its humour; Natasha didn’t wear that same wicked grin when she said it and Clint... well, Clint realised that maybe he kind of, sort of, maybe actually might want to date her.  It wasn’t just sex anymore.  There were some days they just hung out; talking, joking, working together.  Then there were the nights when they laid curled up together examining each other’s scars and quietly telling the stories behind them.  It wasn’t just sex, it wasn’t just some fling, not anymore.  
  
So what was it?  
  
A recent mission had taken them only so far as Jersey with a team consisting of the two of them, Jessica and Luke.  Constrictor had managed to get his vibranium coils back since the breakout, but with a little teamwork, a few fancy arrows and a bit of property damage the Avengers had managed to capture him and deliver him safely back to S.H.I.E.L.D.  
  
When they got back to the city Natasha had been the one to suggest dinner, to which Clint immediately agreed.  As tempting as it was Luke had to decline, he had a wife and baby to get back to after all, which left only Jessica.  Had Luke gone she would have as well, but she didn’t want to be anyone’s third wheel.  Living with Natasha, she would have had to have been blind, deaf and dumb to not know where the redhead spent the nights she wasn’t home, and while it had been a point of contention at the start she was slowly getting over it.  There would always be a part of her that was at least a bit jealous, a part that would forever question _‘why her and not me?’_ , but the two seemed happy enough together despite their shared insistence that they weren’t dating and Jess had grown to care about both of them and had decided not to interfere.  
  
“I told Peter I’d stop by when we were done, but you two have fun,” she excused herself just a bit too cheerily before catching a ride with Luke and leaving Clint and Natasha alone.    
  
“So...” Clint ventured slowly.  “Just you and me, I guess.”  
  
“Such an astute observation,” Natasha had countered with a grin, breaking any awkward tension and winning a small chuckle out of the archer.  They had eventually settled on sushi despite Clint’s loud protestations, and while he joked and complained the whole meal he did actually enjoy the food, though he didn’t admit it.    
  
A few blocks from the restaurant was a classics theatre offering a showing of The Big Sleep and it hadn’t even been a question of whether they should go or not.  In the dark theatre there might have been an instance or two of making out like teenagers, but Natasha mostly just watched the film and Clint mostly just watched Natasha.  More often than not she was very guarded, though she had been opening up more and more, at least to him.  Still, he liked to see her like this, no masks and no lies, just enjoying herself.  
  
On the walk home he had become unusually silent, a fact that certainly didn’t slip Natasha’s notice.  “What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly, slipping her arm through his and giving it a gentle tug to get his attention.  
  
“I don’t date coworkers,” Clint replied and he felt Natasha’s body stiffen a moment before she quickly brushed it off.  
  
“Who says we’re dating?” she gave her usual response, but there was nothing usual about her tone.  Maybe he was reading too much into it, but he was sure he caught a hint of disappointment and exasperation in her voice, maybe even a bit of sadness in the sigh that preceded it?  
  
“Well, I think dinner and a movie is pretty much the definition of a traditional date,” he said, glancing over at her.  He hadn’t even noticed that they’d stopped walking but suddenly they were facing each other and she was looking up at him warily, searching... hopeful?  
  
“But you don’t date coworkers,” Natasha said slowly, her eyes on his even as he looked away, brows furrowed in thought.    
  
“So I keep saying...”  Running a hand back over his hair, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “I don’t, it’s true, and it’s a good rule, one that’s worked well for me for years.”    
  
Clint looked back at Natasha when she pulled away and wrapped her arms around her stomach.  He could see her shutting down, closing up, so before she could speak he cut her off.  “But all rules have exceptions, right?”  
  
Raising his eyebrows he studied her expression, noting the tiny crease in her forehead as she tried to figure out where he was going with this.  He liked to think that she suspected but didn’t want to get her hopes up.    
  
“Or maybe I should just rethink that rule all together.  Or... or I could just alter it a little to say that I don’t date coworkers, plural, but that if a certain one wanted to date me then I could-”  
  
Fortunately Natasha decided to put him out of his babbling misery by pressing her lips to his in a silencing kiss.  It lasted only a moment and Clint barely had time to react before she was pulling back.  “Took you long enough,” she said.  Slipping her arms around his neck, she smiled up at him, a smile that was free and genuine and that made his heart skip a beat, as cheesy as that sounded; a smile that was impossible not to return in his own goofy manner.    
  
“Mentally defective, remember?” he said earning a laugh.  “So I guess this was our official first date, huh?  What should we do next?”  
  
“I don’t know about you, but I could use a shower,” Natasha said.  For a moment Clint had forgotten that they were still in their uniforms; at least they had left the weapons with Luke.    
  
“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” he replied, pulling her flush against him and dipping his head to nip at her neck.    
  
“Hey, this is our first date,” she protested half-heartedly, squirming against him but not really trying to free herself.  “What kind of girl do you think I am?”  
  
“The kind who puts out on the first date,” he said against her neck, flicking his tongue over her pulse and running his hand up her back.    
  
She could feel him smile against her skin and finally ceased her feigned struggle, her fingers curling in the hair at the back of his head.  Turning her head, she brought her own lips near his ear.  “Only for you,” she said before gripping his hair tightly and pulling his head back so she could press her lips firmly to his again, completely oblivious to the night sounds and the people around them.  When they finally came up for air the change was obvious to both of them, like a weight had been lifted, a barrier removed.  It was clear they had both been fooling themselves for weeks that this thing between them wasn’t more than just physical, that they hadn’t started to develop deeper feelings.  They didn’t say it, but they didn’t have to as it was clear in each other’s eyes.  
  
“How about we skip the walk and get a cab back to your place?” Natasha suggested, and the words had barely left her lips when Clint was pulling away and waving his arm to hail a taxi.    
  
“Already on it,” he said, more than a little anxious.  No more hiding, no more pretending there was nothing between them while in public, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to getting her home alone so they could fully explore this new step in their relationship.  
  
As she curled up next to him in the cab, her head on his shoulder and one hand sliding just under the hem of his shirt, Clint couldn’t help but think that maybe dating coworkers didn’t have to be such a bad thing after all.


End file.
